Dating the Love Guru
by xREGENERAT0R
Summary: Mitchie isn't exactly an expert on love, but she sure as heck thinks she is. A run in with Connect 3's lead singer changes that. Or maybe it doesn't. T FOR SAFETY!
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I don't own Camp Rock or anyone in it. Totally wish I did though. Not because I'd own the Jonas Brothers, but because I'd be filthy rich. Hecka yeah! (:**

Prologue:

I gazed at the man in front of me in confusion. Normal girls would have swooned and gushed at his ever so clever use of words. Normal girls would have kissed him passionately, before calmly leading him to their homes for a not-so-innocent night. Normal girls would have unconsciously began planning their wedding, and thinking up their favorite baby names. Then again, I'm not what one would describe as normal.

"Pardon me?" I managed to squeak out.

"Love ya." He grinned charmingly as he leaned against my doorframe. His tall, lean body caused most girls to do a double take as they walked by, and his brown hair was so silky it practically begged for my fingers to run through them. "You're the twinkle in my eye, the missing piece of my puzzle. I know it's sort of cheesy, but when I see you I feel like my world is complete."

I narrowed my eyes quizzically, "Love ya, Love you, or I love you?"

He looked thrown off guard. "What's the difference?"

I rolled my eyes, "Just answer the question."

"You know, you're probably the most beautiful woman—" He began, and looked down at me admiringly, before I interrupted him completely unfazed.

"Luke…" I warned.

He shuffled from foot to foot, "Well, I said 'love ya,' but you know—"

I quickly interrupted him, and spoke to him as if he were a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "Tsk, Tsk. What a shame! You were just trying to get into my pants tonight weren't you?"

He looked speechless and opened his mouth to talk, but I beat him to it, "Let me give you a heads up for the next one. The first time you tell a girl you love her you absolutely must say 'I love you.' 'Love you' is used when you finish a sweet kiss or laugh at something stupid and you just gaze at her comfortably before uttering the words that will make her heart swoon. 'Love ya?' That is most definitely _not_ what you use to tell a girl you love her for the first time. It should only be used when you're in a rush and you quickly tell her goodbye, or when you say goodbye via text message, or when you say goodbye on the phone. Well, I guess just when you say goodbye. But not every time you say goodbye, because that is just completely unacceptable! I mean who—"

He cut me off, seemingly recovered from the initial shock. "Mitchie!"

I stopped my rambling, and smiled at his confused face, "Oh don't worry, I'll write it down for you. Anyway, thanks for dinner. Your attempt at expressing your false feelings was flattering." Then I closed the door in his pretty little face.

I put my purse and my keys down, sighing heavily, before I quickly ran and opened the door remembering something.

I was met with a confused Luke still staring at my door, "Oh, Luke I forgot something! _Never_ tell a girl you love her on the third date. Bye now!"

I couldn't help the grin across my face as I turned the lights in my apartment on, and plopped down on the lime green couch. The whole living room was white and black with splashes of lime green as an offset color. It screamed comfortable and classy, yet in-your-face and anomalous. For me, it was perfect. Very Mitchie.

I flicked the television on and found myself rolling my eyes at the garbage Hot Tunes TV seemed to be dishing out.

_Last night things got crazy during autograph signing after the final concert of the infamous Connect 3's tour. Twenty-three year old Shane Gray, lead singer of the band, went ballistic as a young girl accidentally bumped into him on his way out the fan filled room. Let's take a look. John role the tape._

I was about to turn the channel, when the video rolled and amusement filled my eyes. A girl looking the age of fifteen practically threw herself on top of Shane Gray out of nowhere and yelled, "I love you!" The poor guy got a look of terror in his eye, before shoving the girl off him and belting out a high-pitched, extremely girly scream. He then slapped his hands over his mouth in embarrassment. Suddenly, sounds of booing girls and snickering boys were heard. "You pushed down a girl!" Shane looked surprised, and started to apologize over the commotion, but his publicist ushered him out the room.

_What do you think about that? Send us and email at __.com__ to let us hear your thoughts. _

I just stared at the TV screen as it went to a commercial. Then I burst into laughter as it sunk in. That had to have been the most hilarious thing I had ever seen. I clutched my stomach as tears poured down my face, desperately trying to cease my laughter, but I found myself unable.

"What the frick, Mitchie? I'm trying to sleep!" An angry voice appeared in the hallway just outside the living room.

I glanced up at my best friend, still shaking in uncontrollable laughter, "H-Hey, C-Caitlin!"

I had completely forgotten she had arrived in town yesterday and was staying with me for the next two weeks, after my encounter with Luke. Good thing I didn't let him have his way with me.

She rolled her eyes, "Why are you laughing so hard?"

I just burst into a whole new set of laughs, "T-The girl…a-and he s-screamed…pushed h-her…s-so funny."

She gave me a weird look, "How about you tell me later? I'm going to bed. You better to. You're going to need the rest for tomorrow."

My laughing died down and I groaned in complaint.

Caitlin laughed, "Night, Mitch."

"Night, Mitch." I mocked her.

She playfully glared at me, before waltzing back to the guestroom.

I turned the TV off, hopped of the couch and into my bed tiredly, not even bothering to brush my teeth.

Tomorrow was going to be interesting. I groaned just thinking about it. Then pushing the thoughts from my head, a gentle smile graced my lips as I fell asleep dreaming of none other than the boy who had screamed like a girl in front of hundreds. _What a wuss!_

_

* * *

_

_**A/N: So what do you think? Should I continue? Sorry it's so short, but it's just the prologue. I really enjoyed writing this, so I hope you guys liked reading it. I'm going for at least 5 reviews for an update, but if you'd like to give me more I most certainly will not complain! Haha! Review, please!**_

_**-LizzyBeth(:**_


	2. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything. I know, talk about depressing!**

Chapter One:

I grinned wildly as the beginning instrumentals of the song erupted from the speakers.

"Ah! Caitlin! Turn it off! We can't have our super-freaky-in-the-morning-booty-dance-party yet!" I shouted over the blaring music, the grin still etched across my face.

She shut it off and shot me a confused glance. "Why in the world not?"

"Don't tell me you actually forgot our tradition!" I let out an over exaggerated gasp.

She looked lost for a moment, before her eyes lit in recognition. She then grabbed my arm and dragged me to her bedroom.

Five minutes later we were fully prepared for the best super-freaky-in-the-morning-booty-dance-party of our lives. We were both dressed in over sized Connect 3 t-shirts, mine was black and hers was gray. Yes, I know, very flashy. Let's just say the knick-knack store we got them from didn't have a large variety of colors. We had bought them in mockery of our friend Lindsay who was completely obsessed with the band, and to this day we never attended a super-freaky-in-the-morning-booty-dance-party without them. To complete our outfit we wore matching ray-ban sunglasses, and stood on my couch back to back with white knee-socks covering our feet. Caitlin pointed the remote at the stereo, and as soon as the music began we both swung our side ponytails around in circles.

_Hey baby, _

_Why you treatin' me bad?  
Hey darlin', _

_Know you're makin' me mad_

I jumped off the couch and slung my body around in the crazy way you only can, when you're with your best friend in the privacy of your home. Our vocals sounded worse than a dying walrus. Not because we couldn't sing, but because belting off-key notes was so much more fun.

_I'm goin' crazy, _

_Tryin' to figure out why you are leavin', _

_Give me a reason_

Caitlin grabbed my hand, and we started doing our own weird version of the tango. We stopped as soon as we started though, when I attempted to spin Caitlin and she almost knocked over a vase. We burst out laughing, and went back to dancing around like a bunch of dorks.

_Say that you need me, _

_I know you deceivin',  
The lines that you feed me will leave you alone_

We struck whatever pose that came to our minds, according to the beat, and I couldn't help the giddy smile that graced my features as I clowned with Caitlin. It wasn't until then that I realized just how much I'd missed her. Living in different states was harder than I had originally thought it would be. It's not everyday you find someone you can get to booty dance around your house with you in retarded clothing.

Since we had nothing left to do, we bust out in our old school moves. Like the watering can, the pretzel, and the Arab bobble head. I got so into it, I didn't even think twice as of to why the doorbell rang and who could be standing behind it. I simply danced my way toward the door, and swung it open with a hearty laugh.

"MICHELLE! What in Gods' name are you wearing?" A voice belted through the apartment.

I froze, and the music was abruptly shut off from somewhere behind me.

"D-Daddy? Why are you here? You weren't supposed to have arrived for another four hours!"

He grimaced at my appearance, "I am your father, and I will show up at your doorstep whenever I feel like doing so. Now, explain to me why you're dressed so… I can't even describe how disturbed I am at your choice of clothing. Your mother and I send you off to college, and this is what you turn into?"

I gulped nervously, "No, sir. I—"

"Wait a second here! Is there a man in your apartment? Are you _playing_ around with him?" He interrupted.

I shook my head quickly, "No! I was playing around with Caitlin."

He raised his eyebrow, and my eyes widened as I realized how that must have sounded.

"Oh, no! NO! I'm not doing the nasty with Caitlin! I meant… Well, never mind. But I wasn't… yeah, no I wasn't…" I stuttered in shock.

I heard stifled laughter come from behind me. I whipped around and shot Caitlin a glare.

"Um, how about you come in?" I offered.

He frowned, "Honestly Michelle, I'm not sure I can be in your presence as you are dressed in such a dishonorable manner. I'll return later. I simply wanted to remind you to bring the CD of that new group you heard. I'd like the other Execs to hear it also at the party we're holding tonight for the record label."

"Why couldn't you show it to me at the lunch you and mom are coming here for later?" I stated confusedly.

His jaw tightened, "Are you getting smart with me? We are the Torres' we do not act this way under any circumstances. I am unpleased with you behavior today, I suppose you'll have to make it up to me later. Your mother will be hearing about this." Then he turned and left.

I shut the door silently, the tension ringing in the air as I turned to face Caitlin. Our eyes held each others gaze for a while, before she burst into laughter. Much worse than my little episode the previous night, if that was even possible.

I frowned, "It's not funny."

She gasped for air, "Oh, yes it is! 'Doing the nasty?' Where on Earth did you come up with that?"

I rolled my eyes, but grinned a little as I made my way into the kitchen, "Whatever. Come help me finish cooking this food, or my mother might have a cow."

Caitlin nodded her head, but smiled at me mischievously. I immediately understood, and grabbed the remote to turn the music back on, as we danced our way into the kitchen.

* * *

I glanced at my reflection and sighed.

I was growing tired of this. I'm nineteen years old, and yet I'm still struggling to please my over-the-top parents. My hair was curled in a half-up half-down style, a barrette made with real diamonds holding it up. Surprisingly, I admired the dress my mother had forced me to wear to this party I was now preparing for. Fortunately, the white silk didn't make me appear too pale, because I had been to the beach a few days ago. It was tight-fitted at the bust, before it fell gracefully to the knee, hugging all my curves in the right places. Not to the point where every man in the room would be eying me, but just enough to acknowledge my body's true shape. The only problem with the outfit was that every single detail had been carefully thought over with my parents solely in mind.

The little bit of makeup I wore was used to highlight my features, not hide them, and I was almost positive it was perfect. Just to be sure though, I performed a makeup check that hadn't failed me once in all the years of my life. I pulled my best flirty face in the mirror and batted my eyes to the reflection. I concluded that my eyes looked innocent, yet captivating. Check. I then spoke in a deep voice, "Hello there darling. Don't you look beautiful tonight?" I returned to my normal voice and gave an embarrassed look, "Oh stop it, you!" I then noted that the blush suited the occasion perfectly. It was dark enough that if I did blush it wouldn't look like tomato fungus had grown on my cheeks, yet it was light enough that it almost appeared to naturally blend that way with my skin. Check. Next I puckered my lips and kissed the mirror. Then I examined, "Oh, ew! Way too glossy!" After re-applying I found myself satisfied. Check.

"I seriously should write this stuff down in a book. It never fails." I said to myself.

Then realizing what I was about to encounter, I gulped and nervously paced my bedroom. Lucky for me Caitlin was still getting ready, so I had time to think things over. I had been relieved when my mother called and cancelled our family lunch earlier for a meeting they had to attend, because it meant I had a longer amount of time to procrastinate telling them news that was sure to cause an unpleasant uproar. Well, I was also mad that I had cooked all that food for no reason, and I was annoyed that I had to listen to my mother yak on about my unacceptable behavior this morning. But relieved was definitely top on the list. I sat on my bed and groaned in frustration. Tonight, I was going to tell my parents I didn't want to produce or write songs for musical artists, but that I actually wanted to be one.

Oh god, I need a drink.

Just as I was about to walk out the door, it flew open.

"Mitchie, it's going to be fine. I can see it in you eyes. Just stop. You're going to tell your parents you want to pursue your career as a singer and everything will be fine. They may be a little upset, but—

"No, Caitlin! They're going to be more than a little upset! They have this whole dream of me running the label once they are no longer able to, and after what happened today, I'm practically handing a serial killer my telephone number!" I cried in frustration.

Caitlin rolled her eyes, "Mitchie, you have been their perfect little daughter for _nineteen years_! Do you even know how long that is? You deserve a chance to follow your own dreams. So, you are going to go to this party, and tell them you're doing just that. Got it? As a matter of fact, since you're so good at following the rules, here's a new one. You have to tell your parents that you want to become a professional singer. If you don't I will make it my personal mission to eat all those delicious brownies I made, that I know you love."

I laughed slightly before pulling her into hug, "Oh thank goodness you're here!"

"I know! I should charge you a dollar every pep talk, I'd be a flopping millionaire! Now let's go!" She laughed and pulled me out the door.

Seconds later it was reopened as I ran back inside, "SHOES! How on Earth did I forget my shoes?"

"You are such a nuthead!" Caitlin giggled.

* * *

"John! This is ridiculous! Just let me go inside! I don't need a stupid entrance." I argued with the security guard, who had apparently been given specific orders to keep me outside the dining hall until I was introduced. What was with that anyway? I'm the head of the Torres Productions' daughter, not Queen Elizabeth.

Caitlin groaned, "So we have to stand out here for how long exactly?"

"Oh! Not you Miss Gellar. You're free to enter whenever you'd like." John stated calmly.

I on the other hand was about to blow up like a ton of titanium.

Her eyes sparkled in delight, "Really? Sweet, thanks big guy!" She started to enter the room when I yanked her by the elbow.

"Caitlin! You're just going to leave me here?" I spouted in exasperatedly.

"Um, yeah, pretty much." She turned to go, before I pulled her back again.

"Hey! Some best friend you are! I need you to save me from the lurking dangers of boredom." I wined.

She rolled her eyes, "Mitchie, I don't want to walk out with you when they announce your name. It'll be like, 'Oh there's Michelle! Who's the stalker chick next to her?' Talk about embarrassing! I love you Mitch, but not that much."

I watched her flounce away, and huffed in annoyance. I finally sat in the chair that had been offered to me five minutes ago, realizing John wasn't going to budge. Suddenly I felt a vibration, in my clutch, and read the new text message I had just received.

_K, now I feel bad. _

_Cait(:_

I giggled quietly. It was so like Caitlin to text me when she was five feet away.

_U shuld! My poor soul tossed on the cold deserted floor. _

_Mitchie3_

_Nvm. U totally just killed it. Feeling badness gone bye-bye! Btw, how was date w/Luke? Sry, I 4got._

_Cait(: _

I groaned out loud, but quickly shut up when John gave me a 'wtf' look.

_Its cool. He said luv ya 2 me. NOT luv u or I luv u. I set him straight. Was 2 funny. _

_Mitchie3_

_Oh Im sure u did. Haha._

_Cait(:_

"Michelle, get your butt up! They're introducing!"

I jumped startled at the sound of my mother's voice, and hurriedly put my phone away. "Sorry Mom. It won't happen again."

She nodded her head slightly, "Good. Now stand up straight, and smile."

I rolled my eyes, but obliged.

"_Now without further a due, I'd like to introduce the people you had better love or else your butt's getting fired, " The announcer said jokingly, and getting the room full of people to chuckle,, "Steve and Connie Torres, with their daughter Michelle." _

Then we walked into an intricately designed room, full of famous and important people. The ceiling was tall, and filled with a gold lining, windows showing a marvelous view of the gorgeous city lights. The entire room was breathtaking and covered in cream and gold. The tables were all filled, and waiters waited patiently in the back of the room by the bar. I noticed a dance floor to my right, but knew my parents would kill me if I was caught dancing goofily with Caitlin like I wanted to.

My parents proceeded to go through this complete-waste-of-time speech, and people then began to come up to us and mingle. I smiled and did as my mother asked, but the first chance I got I managed to gracefully maneuver my way over to Caitlin and roll my eyes.

"All that for absolutely nothing!" I complained.

"Hey! You got to bump shoulders with Orlando Bloom! Call me crazy, but if I were you I wouldn't be complaining." She grinned.

"I did? Wait, why is he here? He's an actor." I frowned in confusion.

"No clue, but who cares?" She sighed dreamily.

I snapped my fingers in front of her face, "Wakey, wakey, Caitykinz!"

"How many times have I told you not to call me that?" Her glare penetrating my line of sight.

I laughed, "Many. Now help me figure out how to break the news."

She pondered over it for a quick second, before grabbing my hand and pushing through the crowd.

When I realized where she was headed it was too late. Directly for the table my parents sat with all the head executives and producers. Gee, thanks Cait!

"Hi Mr. and Mrs. Torres. It's nice seeing you again! Mitchie here has something important to tell you."

I wanted to grab Caitlin and strangle her, as everyone turned to look at me expectantly.

"Oh, Michelle, we were just discussing how you could work at the label over the summer to familiarize yourself with the work you'll need to do once you graduate and run it. Isn't that lovely, dear?" My mother stated.

I smiled uneasily, "Um, yeah, about that—

"Oh! I have an idea, how about you start now! Considering its spring break, and you don't have anything else important to do." My dad chuckled as did his colleagues.

I frowned slightly, "Actually, as I was saying—

Dave one of the producers at the label turned toward me, "I could use the help, and you could start tomorrow?"

My mother nodded in approval, and next thing I know, their all chattering about everything I need to learn before I can actually run the business. And before I knew it, I opened my big mouth, and I opened it wide.

"I'M NOT GOING TO RUN THE LABEL!" I shouted, and perhaps a little bit too loudly, because half of the whole room turned toward me.

My cheeks turned bright red, yes like tomato fungus, despite my carefully applied blush.

My father spoke in hushed tones, "What do mean? Of course you are!"

I sighed heavily, "Daddy, I'm sorry. I didn't want to tell you like this…" I then turned and glared at Caitlin, before continuing. "But, I have decided to pursue a career as a singer."

A gasp erupted from the table, and my parents stood in anger, "No you are not. What got this nonsense in you head? Is it that Caitlin girl? You know I've never liked her!"

Caitlin scoffed, but didn't say anything after the pleading look I sent her.

"Mom, Dad, I'm sorry but I am. You may hate me, but I have to follow my dreams. Can't you understand that?" I pressed.

They glanced at each other, "No." The two letters were spoken in unison.

My parents started on a tirade, but I wasn't listening. All I did was study my shoes as tears welled up in my eyes. I had hoped with all my heart, that maybe for once they'd show a little compassion. Maybe, they would understand, just this once. And now I felt… Well, I honestly didn't know how I felt. I just felt bad.

I interrupted whatever it was they were saying, "Excuse me."

Then I briskly walked away, searching for a bathroom while looking at the ground so no one would see my tears. I could hear Caitlin's heels click as she followed me, so I sped up a little bit.

I turned a corner and ran smack into someone, almost falling until they caught me by the waist. I glanced up at my captor, confused by the weird feeling I got as he looked into my eyes, concern growing across his face.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

I quickly stood tall, looking down, but sharply staring at the guy again as I realized who he was.

He was the guy who had embarrassed himself and was on Hot Tunes TV. I almost laughed at the sight of him, but instead I heard Caitlin call my name and shot off like a rocket toward the bathroom.

I hadn't noticed the two pairs of eyes piercing my back angrily, watching the whole scene.

Steve Torres spoke softly in his wife's ear, "Did you see that?"

"Yes. Don't worry, dear. I have a plan." She hissed her frown so deep it was sure to give her wrinkles.

* * *

_**A/N: Uh-oh. What's Connie's plan? Still a bit of a beginning, but I promise the next chapter it starts to get really interesting. Thank you so much for all the reviews, alerts, and favorites! I was pleasantly surprised. I hope you liked the chapter. Please, review and let me know!**_

_**-LizzyBeth(:**_


	3. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I am own-less. AKA 'I own nothing.'**

Chapter 2:

"Please, open the door Mitchie. I know you're upset, but locking yourself in a supply closet isn't going help." Caitlin sighed, banging her head against our barrier from her position on the dirty floor.

I hadn't replied to any of Caitlin's pleas over the past fifteen minutes, and felt my voice cracking as I finally did. "I couldn't find a bathroom. B-besides, there's plenty of tissue in h-here." I couldn't help the tears that rolled gently down my cheeks.

"Oh, Mitch." I heard her sigh sympathetically.

I stood from my place behind the door, "Do you think they'll hate me? Maybe I should just go out there and tell them this was all some kind of a sick joke."

"NO!" Caitlin shouted, causing me to halt my pacing. "Mitchie, your voice is so beautiful, it would be like committing murder to not share it with the world."

"But what if this doesn't work out? I'm going to go crawling back to my parents, and they're going to laugh in my face." I argued, secretly hoping she would convince me otherwise.

"No you won't. I know you. Even if this doesn't work out, which it will, you will never go crawling back to your parents. I have no idea how, considering the parents you have and all the money that comes with them, but you are a strong girl with a good head on your shoulders. You don't need your parents' approval to do this." She spoke sternly.

I smiled slightly. How did I get lucky enough to have such a great best friend? I then realized how much I might be letting her down if I gave up on my dreams, and gave in to my parents'.

I quickly wiped my face, "You know, what? You were right. You told me I deserved a chance to follow my own dreams, and I do. I'm not going to sit in here crying like a little baby, because my parents may never speak to me again. That's their loss, not mine." I put forth my most confident face, and opened the door.

One look at Caitlin, and the tears started to fall again. She encased me in a bear hug, not saying a word, because she knew that's what I needed. We stayed like that for a while, before I pulled from her grasp.

"Thanks, Cait." I whispered.

She smiled brightly, "Stop crying, right now. There are loads of producers and other labels in the room right this second. As best friend of a future pop star, a highly suggest you get your butt out there."

I smiled hesitantly, and started toward the dining room once again, before a hand stopped me.

"Oh but we might want to actually find a bathroom first." She grimaced.

I frowned in confusion, until she thrust her compact mirror in my face.

"Oh my gosh. I should've used waterproof mascara." I groaned sourly.

She giggled, and pulled me around the building in search of a bathroom.

* * *

_Shane's POV_

I glanced around the room nervously, and popped another quiche in my mouth.

"Max, I don't think this is a good idea." I wiped the sweat from my brow.

He grabbed my shoulders, and locked eyes with me. "Shane. Dave Goodman from Torres Productions would like to hear our proposal here, so we don't exactly have a choice. It's going to be fine if you manage to calm down, and stop eating all the food. The label is going to love the idea, okay?"

I nodded my head wearily at my manager. I had recently decided that I wanted to branch out, and produce a whole new album of my music alone. My brothers and I discussed it, and they were totally cool. As a matter a fact, Nick was considering doing the same thing. We would still stay a band, but it was a way to show the world ourselves as individual artists. The only problem was that I wasn't sure the label would feel to hot about the idea. Luckily, I still had a couple of minutes to prepare.

"Mr. Gray! Over here!" I saw Dave beckon me over to the table full of producers and execs.

Or not.

"Don't worry. I'll do all the talking." Max patted my shoulder and led the way.

I felt like I was walking in mud, as I trudged through the crowd, and finally reached my destination.

"Ah, Mr. Gray! Nice to see you. There seems to have been a change in plans. Mr. and Mrs. Torres would like to hear your proposal themselves, over there at that table to the far right." Dave spoke calmly.

My eyes widened, and if I had thought I was nervous before, I sure as heck was now. I follow Dave's line of sight and saw that the Torres' had some how managed to snag an empty table, with two chairs waiting to be sat in.

I swallowed a lump in my throat, and took a quick glance a Max. He looked a little nervous also. I guess he hadn't ever directly spoken with the big wigs himself either.

"Hmm, Shane Gray. I don't believe we've ever formally met. I'm Steve Torres, this is my wife Connie." He introduced as we sat at the table.

I shook their hands in response, "An honor to meet you, sir. You too mam."

Another round of introductions circled the table as I introduced Max.

"So, tell us why we're here." Connie spoke.

I looked at Max. "Right, sorry. I'm not one to beat around the bush, so I'm just going to come out and say it. As we all know, Connect 3 has been doing exceedingly well these past few years, but in order to maintain that success we need to do something a little out of the ordinary. We are proposing that Mr. Gray produce his own album, in order to show the world another side of his music, that is sure to keep all fans on their toes." Max stated in a very business like voice.

The Torres' looked at each other, "What about Connect 3? Do we leave that behind now that Mr. Gray has suddenly had a change of heart in his career choice?" Connie spoke rigidly, her face masked of all emotion.

"Not at all, Shane will continue on as lead singer of Connect 3, but he may not appear at all Connect 3 events. It will mainly be interviews and such. Not a real problem though." Max replied as if he were waiting for them to ask that.

"But it is a problem Mr. Max Tyler. Shane Gray is the face of Connect 3. Don't you find it a little odd that _he_ won't be at Connect 3 events? Perhaps it would make more since, if Nate Gray developed his own album." Connie said icily.

I swallowed hard, this wasn't going too well.

"It'll definitely be something to consider in the near future, but with the bad press currently circulating around Mr. Gray, it would be more ideal for him to venture out and not one of his band mates." Max spoke, and I was surprised he handled it so well.

Steve Torres looked thoughtful and turned to me. Wait, turned to me?

"How badly do you want this?" He peered at me curiously.

I took a deep breath, "More than anything in this world. I love my brothers, and its fun performing with them all the time, but the idea of being able to show my fans another more personal side of me and my music is thrilling."

Steve grimaced, "You do understand that if this doesn't work, you may not only destroy your career, but your brothers' careers also?"

I nodded firmly, but inside I felt sick at thought of my brothers paying for my mistakes.

"Well, then. I guess there is a new album to make. I'll put Dave right on it." Steve proclaimed.

I almost grabbed him and hugged right there. "Oh thank you, so much!"

"On one measly condition." Connie said.

I was beginning to not like her one bit. I frowned, "Um, sure. Anything."

She smiled, "Come to my office tomorrow morning at nine, and we'll all have a discussion."

Max nodded, "We'll be there." We then started to rise from our seats.

"My deepest apologies Mr. Tyler, but I'd much rather Shane comes alone. Is that alright?" Her smile was forced, as her eyes met his challengingly.

He hesitated for a minute until I nudged him, "That'll be fine. Once again nice meeting you two."

I smiled also, as we walked away. I quickly grabbed my phone to tell my brother's the good news.

Today was a good day after all.

* * *

_Mitchie's POV_

"Really?" I smiled excitedly. I was back in the dining hall after a quick fix-up in the bathroom. As Caitlin had suggested, I was discussing my music with some of the producers from other labels that had attended the party.

He smiled genuinely, "Absolutely. We'd be honored. Just stop by the studio tomorrow at around three. We can look at a few of the songs you've written and hear you sing them."

I was about to reply, when someone beat me to it, "She will do no such thing. Thank you, but your assistance is not needed."

I whipped around to find my mother standing behind me. The man I had been talking to shuffled away uncomfortably.

"Mother, I understand you don't agree with my career choice, but I will not let you sabotage it." I hissed angrily, my jaw clenched.

The look in her eyes told me she wanted to scold me, but surprisingly she simply ignored my protest.

"Your father and I have been talking. We have decided that we will support you in this decision, on one condition." She spoke slowly, as if she didn't want to.

I couldn't help the smile that graced my lips, and I hugged her tightly, before I remembered there was a condition. "Wait, on what condition?"

She smiled, "Come to my office tomorrow morning at nine, we'll discuss it then."

I frowned as she walked off, stopping to greet other people on the way.

In no way at all could this be good. I had to find Caitlin.

* * *

I gulped and stared at the door handle, as if it could possibly hold some sort of disease. The suspense was eating me alive, but I just couldn't open the door to my mother's office. I was terrified of what was to come.

"Okay. Just open the door Mitchie. You can do it." I coaxed myself, before hesitantly pulling it open.

I walked inside five minutes prior to the time I was meant to be here, hoping my mother would be pleased. Instead she scolded me. "Michelle. Must I constantly remind you to knock before entering?"

I saw her sitting in a chair away from her desk, next to my father who looked my outfit up and down, slightly nodding in approval.

I rolled my eyes. Here we go.

I sat on the couch opposite them, "Sorry."

We sat in silence, until I broke it before I burst from all the tension.

"Okay, pardon me for asking, but are we waiting for something." I questioned.

Just then, the boy from that video on Hot Tunes TV walked in. Shane Gray. And boy did he look gorgeous. The new haircut he had suited him well, and unlike every other girl in America, I liked it better like that than when it was long. He wore a black leather jacket, with a white button down and red tie underneath. His black skinny jeans fit his body perfectly. Not tight enough for him to appear gay or rock-ish, but not loose enough to display his underwear. The white Vans on his feet padded softly across the carpet, as he stood before us.

"Hi. I would have knocked, but your assistant told me to just walk in." He spoke nervously.

I tried my best to hold it in, but before I knew what was happening, I was rolling in a fit of laughter.

My parents looked furious, and Shane confused, but I couldn't stop.

"MICHELLE!" My dad shouted.

I clutched my stomach, desperately attempting to suck in my laughter. "I'm s-so s-sorry! He…j-just…I s-saw the video o-on Hot Tunes. H-he screamed like a girl."

Shane's whole face turned bright red, and my parents narrowed their eyes.

"Michelle! Pull yourself together right this instant. We don't have time for this." My mother spoke angrily.

I let out on last laugh, and thought of stale bread to calm myself down. I know, weird. But what's more boring and un-laughable then stale bread.

"Now, please. Take a seat next to Michelle, Mr. Gray." My father instructed.

He did as they said and I then began to wonder what exactly he was doing here.

"I don't like stalling, so I will say what I plan to say immediately. You two are to pose as a fake couple for the next month." My mother said in a no-nonsense tone.

"WHAT?" We shouted simultaneously.

"Michelle, you seem to think you are so ready to be a professional singer, we decided we'd let you see the negative side of it before you made any hasty decisions. This way you'll see what paparazzi and publicity is really like. If you refuse, we will do everything in our power to make sure no other company signs you on. Understood?" My mother spoke icily, and extremely un-parent like. How could they do this to me? I was their daughter! You don't blackmail your daughter!

"As for you Mr. Gray, if you want to stay on this label and pursue your dreams as a solo artist, I suggest you agree." My father looked at Shane pointedly.

I was too shocked to speak.

"You can't do that! My brothers and I have a contract." He growled angrily.

My mother smirked, "Yes, you do. But trust me darling, my name is Connie Torres and I have my ways."

He looked flabbergasted.

"That is all. Now when you head out the studio I suggest you smile." My father chuckled, as did my mother.

We remained seated though. Suddenly all the pent up anger from years of their crap spilt out of me.

"How DARE YOU? I am your DAUGHTER! I can not believe you are doing this to me! I want to sing, not become a professional stripper! I have done everything you have asked of me since I was born. You didn't like what I wore, I changed my clothes. You didn't approve of a boy I liked, I never spoke to him again. I wanted to attend Julliard with Caitlin, but you wanted me to go to UCLA. Guess where I went? UCLA! I am ashamed to share the same blood as you right now. I'll do as you ask, but when this is over and I become a professional singer you never speak to me again, got it?" I screamed boiling in anger.

"_IF_ you become a professional singer, dear. This is a tough business, and after you go through this, you might change your mind." My mother appeared unfazed.

So, this is what this was about. They thought they could change my mind, and convince me to do as they wanted. Well they can just kiss that idea goodbye.

I shook my head in disbelief, "You don't even care that I just disowned you as my parents. All you want is someone trustworthy to take care of this label when you die and rot in helll." I spat.

I looked at Shane, he looked surprised and furious. "You don't even know this guy and you're bringing him into this. Gosh, you suck."

He frowned, "I don't even know what to say. Just know that you will be hearing from my manager."

He then stalked off, and I followed right behind him. I wanted to curl up in a ball and cry, but I felt bad for this Shane guy more, so I sped up grabbed his arm.

"WHAT?" He shouted.

I shrunk back, "I just wanted to see if you were okay."

He laughed dryly, "Oh don't worry I'm peachy. You know, this is all your fault! I honestly can't even stand to see your face, so get lost."

My eyes burned in fury, "Excuse me? You're not the only one upset here, buddy boy! Those are my parents! I get that your angry, but you could at least act like a decent human being."

We didn't even notice the people poking their heads out of their offices as we fought.

"You're kidding right? I have to break up with my girlfriend, and go out with you. Tell me what's decent about that." He spat as if the mere thought disgusted him.

Despite how p-issed off I was, I felt tears gather in my eyes, "You freaking jerk. When my parents rot in helll , they'll be taking you with them."

I then ran into the elevator and out the building, as fast as I could manage. But when I opened the doors to exit the studio, I was immediately blinded by all the flashes.

There was tons of paparazzi, screaming and yelling various things.

_Now when you exit the building I suggest you smile._ I recalled my father's words.

Those mother…

I then remembered I was crying and looked a mess, in front of all these cameras.

Crap.

* * *

_**A/N: Grr… don't you just hate Mitchie's parents right now? Talk about a quick update! I'm not to sure if I liked this chapter, but review and let me know what you think. It would really mean a lot!**_

_**-LizzyBeth(:**_


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